


Dancing Lessons

by BlueKillers



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M, fargo - Freeform, fx - Freeform, sweetalec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1679336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueKillers/pseuds/BlueKillers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Mr. Numbers and Mr. Wrench went to Fargo they had a target in Washington D.C. Their target was hosting a ball, and so they sneaked into the party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetalec](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sweetalec).



> I was talking to sweetalec on Tumblr and I thought of a prompt and now I want to write it. So, I'm going to attempt writing something good.

Numbers was never really a party kind of guy. He hated the crowds, the obnoxious laughing, and who wouldn't hate those girls who drank too much just so the ugly men would look handsome. Yes, parties were definitely not his cup of tea, but at least he had Wrench there to keep him company. Killing with him was always a pleasure.

At least this wasn't just some nasty party with drugs and alcohol; this was a ball, one with champagne and a small orchestra playing music. People didn't twerk here, they waltzed. Balls were much more classy than other places he had gone to before. He adjusted the buttons on his suit and grabbed two glasses from a server nearby. He handed one to Mr. Wrench, who was tugging unhappily at his collar. Numbers sighed and nudged him gently to get his attention.

'Try to act natural,' he signed. 'We don't want to attract attention to ourselves.'

'I feel ridiculous. You know I hate suits. Where is this guy anyways?'

Numbers pointed, taking a gulp of his champagne. Wrench followed his finger and saw the fat senator laughing with his colleagues. He looked back at Numbers. 'Should we shoot or-'

'Hell no! We'll poison him. Just wait till he gives his speech. No one will care what he does after that. C'mon, let's go find a table.'

Numbers grabbed his elbow and led him through the crowd to a small table in the middle. They'd be able to blend in better that way. They sat and watched as the senator waddled over to his table, possibly drunk. A server tapped a glass to get the attention of everyone. Numbers tapped Wrench's hand while the senator cleared his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you all very much for coming to support me and my campaign. It means the world. Tonight we shall dance and eat to celebrate!" The crowd cheered and raised their glasses to him. Numbers turned and smiled slightly, then started going over the plan again.

'Then, once we get the money, we'll leave. We can get a hotel or something. You ready?'

But Mr. Wrench wasn't watching him entirely. He was glancing over at the crowd occasionally, watching them all sway so gracefully. He'd never done something like that before, but he was sure Numbers had. It seemed like Mr. Numbers had been everywhere and done everything. Had he ever waltzed before?

Numbers finally waved his arms around enough so that Wrench saw him. 'What's the matter with you? Are you not feeling well?'

Wrench hesitated, because he knew he would seem foolish, but then signed, 'I want to dance first. Before we kill this guy.'

Numbers blinked and then sighed. 'Why didn't you just say so?' He stood up and grabbed Wrench's hand. 'Let's make it quick though.'

Overjoyed, Wrench found himself dashing to the dance floor with Numbers. His heart was fluttering violently, but he liked the pounding. 'So, what do I do?' he asked innocently.

Numbers seemed confused. 'You've never danced before?' Wrench shook his head. 'Fine, give me your hand and watch my feet. Try to copy what I do, okay?'

Numbers lead him as best he could, but Mr. Wrench was truly terrible. He couldn't hold a beat to save his life, and he constantly bumped into other dancers. However, Mr. Numbers appreciated how hard he was trying, and thought he was acting cute. When he was sure no one was looking he gave Wrench a quick peck on the lips.

'We can dance later. It'll be easier to teach you when no one else is around.' Mr. Wrench pouted but understood. He walked away from Numbers and around the room while Numbers went to get another glass of champagne. Numbers added the powder and watched for Mr. Wrench's signal. Wrench sped up his pace, heading for the governor. He purposefully bumped into his back and sped off. His drink fell to the ground.

"What the hell-" he started, but Numbers came by and held onto his shoulder.

"Wow, what a jerk. Here, you can have my drink. I can always get another. By the way, good luck on your campaign." He smiled and walked off.

As the two of them walked out the door, the senator starting choking and soon fell to the ground. Mr. Wrench reached for Numbers hand and squeezed it tightly. He looked at Wrench and smiled. 'You wait in the car while I get the money.' Mr. Wrench nodded and gave him a kiss before going to the car.

A few minutes later Mr. Numbers came back with a loaded suitcase. He put into the trunk and got into the passenger seat. 'Just got a text. Another hit in Fargo. We'll have to drive up tonight.' Mr. Wrench looked annoyed and disappointed as he started to sign back. He was cut off though, 'I know I know, it sucks. But don't worry. We'll find a nice motel up there and when we're finished we can start taking a dance class together or something.'

Wrench smiled shyly and signed, 'Alright. I'll practice hard.' Although he was happy that he was going to learn to dance, he was also anxious. He wished that they could dance now and not have to wait. Mr. Wrench didn't really have that kind of patience.


End file.
